


Too much Effort

by BID



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BID/pseuds/BID
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thinks he's the only one staying these Christmas Holidays who volunteers to rebuild the castle, instead of celebrating the first holidays without a psychotic madman ... somewhere else. </p><p>Until he literally falls asleep leaning against Draco Malfoy, but Harry was <em>this</em> tired, and tired of their shit arguments all the time (that hadn't really happened this year), and there was no one in front of whom Malfoy could possibly humiliate him.<br/>So Harry planned to stay right where he was until Malfoy'd shove him off, because everything else would take considerably too much effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too much Effort

**Author's Note:**

> Came to me very randomly, and it's only got to do with christmas because it's the only holidays everyone'd go home. Hell, if they had a week halloween holidays i'd have taken that one, being almost halloween season and all!
> 
> Have fun!

Eyes bleary and entirely too exhausted to pay attention to his surroundings Harry let himself drop onto the closest end of the Griffindor's bench where it'd been nearly shoved together with the empty Slytherin table to make space for the mass of Christmas trees, and didn't even really pay attention that there was food in front of him he probably should eat, or the fairy lights and other decorations floating around him.

These Christmas Holidays, which had a week head start, only higher year students who were willing, able and available to help the castles repairs were allowed to stay, which included Harry as 'eighth' year. He was fairly sure that no one else's been staying, considering it was the first Christmas without some psychotic madman out to kill everyone, and that he's literally seen no one but a couple of teachers.

The past three days he's spent casting 'reparo' and sweeping floors feeling like he made no difference at all, but yesterday Professor, _Headmaster_ McGonagall had asked for his assistance in raising some new wards, what was where they'd found out what he was _really_ good in.  
"A natural!" she'd called him quite pleased and dare he say _proud_ , so since breakfast he's been meshing wards all over the castle, something he truly enjoyed since it was much easier to weave them with his hands instead of restricting the flow of his magic with the new wand he got from Ollivander‘s.

The man had done a good job, picking this wand for Harry, there was no doubt. But ever since Voldemort was dead and the part of his soul removed, Harry's magic had been growing exponentially by the day. By now casting magic through his wand (that'd been perfectly fine in the beginning) felt like trying to push a river through a pinhole, so he resorted to wandless magic most of the time.  
But for all that he had a 'truly frightening' amount of core magic (McGonagall's words, not his) and that freely channelling it into protective wards of a place he considered home without being able to put _too much_ magic into the spells, after almost ten hours he felt well and truly _depleted_ , because that was the only word he could use for that.  
Harry wasn't sure if he'd even be able to levitate his plate right now, hell, he wasn't sure if he could lift his hand!

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame Harry and all he wanted to do was lie down. So he let himself drop backwards knowing the Slytherin bench was maximum half a meter away from his, but his haphazard fall was suddenly stopped when his spine pressed against a warm back and his head fell against someone's shoulder.

The person froze rigid, and Harry would have if he wasn't so exhausted, because out of the corner of his eyes he could see short, white blond hair that could only belong to _one_ Slytherin in the entire school.  
But Harry was _this_ tired, and tired of their shit arguments all the time (that hadn't really happened this year), and there was no one in front of whom Malfoy could possibly humiliate him.  
So Harry planned to stay right where he was until Malfoy'd shove him off, because everything else would take considerably too much effort.

Except that the blonde didn't shove him off or cursed or insulted him. Instead Malfoy seemed to relax after a minute, leaning his back against Harry's, balancing their weights between each other.  
It was oddly companionable and made Harry miss his friends, his _true_ friends like Neville, Luna and Hermione, and certainly not -

"What's wrong Potter?" Malfoy's voice tore him out of his spiralling thoughts.

"Dizzy." Harry answered before he could even start having second thoughts on answering Malfoy, they _were_ leaning back to back. The most peaceful they'd ever been, and Malfoy's laugh vibrated against the back of his ribcage. 

"And then you naturally thought it was a good idea to use _me_ as a lean?" the blond mocked, and Harry couldn't help but notice the lack of venom. It seemed almost...playful? But maybe that was just the tiredness getting to him.

"Didn't notice you coming in." He mumbled back, practically feeling his brain shut down, because Draco's back was soft and warm, and (dare he say it) comfortable against his. Harry realised it was _nice_ leaning against someone like this, it made him feel less alone, less abandoned and utterly exhausted or not, the irony that it was his school nemesis making him feel comforted wasn't lost to him.

The blond snorted, "And here I thought you were ignoring me when I said 'Hello'." he said, and if his voice might have seemed a bit relieved or lighter it went completely over Harry's head as his eyes drifted shut.

"Oh." was all he answered to that, feeling heavy and warm and lax, adding as something of a subconscious afterthought, "Hello Draco."

But if the Slytherin answered anything or reacted to Harry using his first name the Gryffindor wouldn't know because he was asleep. Huffing even warm breaths over Draco's neck where his head was lying on the blond's shoulder, oblivious to the waking world.


End file.
